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A Vacation Surprise

My husband and I just took our first ever child-free
vacation, leaving our daughter home with her grandparents. One of my closest friends, who knows how
badly I want a second kid, gushed to me, “You’re totally going to get pregnant
on your vacation!” I was forced to get clinical with her, explaining how our getaway
fell during week four of my cycle, making it physically impossible for me to
get knocked up — but thanks anyway for the positive thinking.

In fact, the trip brought a different kind of surprise: my
period. This was bothersome for two
reasons. First of all, come on! Aunt Flo has to show up during our only
romantic vacation in nearly four years? That’s some cosmic bullshit right there. Second, I don’t like it when my cycle is wonky. I expect my period to show up 28 days from
the last one. If it arrives early, I
start assuming the worst: perimenopause. The descent from fertility into barrenness can take years, with
irregular periods being a symptom. So
now, instead of feeling like sexy vacation lady, I feared I was turning into an
old crone.

There was yet another problem; I hadn’t packed any period
supplies, and we were staying in the wilderness, many miles from a convenience
store. Our resort was able to supply me
with some industrial-looking feminine hygiene products, like they might use in
the Army or prison, but who was I to look a gift tampon in the mouth?

With logistics solved, I was able to put the inconvenience
out of my mind. We hiked amongst
redwoods, explored a secret beach and dined under the stars. It wasn’t until we headed home the next day
that I realized my period had stopped. Maybe it was just on hiatus. I
kept checking my undies for several more days, and nothing was happening. Only then did another possibility occur to
me: the mini red tide might not have been my period at all. It might have been implantation bleeding,
which can occur 6-12 days after conception. Could I actually be pregnant?

When you’re trying to conceive, you buy pregnancy tests in
bulk, so I always have some on hand. I laid one out on the bathroom sink with
plans to test in the morning. I thought about sharing my suspicion with my
husband, but I didn’t want to make him totally crazy — one of us should at least
get a good night’s sleep.

The next morning, I snuck into the bathroom and peed on a stick. Unable to wait for three whole minutes
without checking, I watched it develop, like a Polaroid. I saw one line, and immediately felt like
such an idiot for even thinking I could be pregnant. It was
just like my “hysterical pregnancy” from the previous month all over
again.

But then a funny thing happened. A
second line slowly appeared, changing everything, maybe forever. “I’m pregnant,” I whispered to my confused
and sleepy husband. But after having
endured six early miscarriages, both of us knew it was way too soon to jump up
and down.